HOLD ME TENDER AND TIGHT
chapter 5 (6)
by Stands With A Fic - Cami
Thanks everybody for the encouraging reviews and PMs! If you have questions I will answer them all! My overwhelming gratitude to my beta CMemlovr! Please review and comment! I'm so afraid to 'betray' Sharon, the complexity of her feelings , I'm eager to understand and express her all. Of course this is a totally unknown Sharon yet...waiting for S3 to know why she's still married to Jack, her real inner and deep why I mean...
Happy Easter/ Spring Break!
Sharon woke up feeling cold. Blinking she looked around, trying to figure out where she was, the blanket beside her. Andy's scent lingered around her and she smiled, feeling reassured by its presence. She massaged her back which ached as she drew up suddenly. She looked around again, sitting on the side edge of Andy's bed, glancing casually at the nightstand as she reached for her glasses. Looking at her watch, which read 8:04 PM, she slipped her shoes on, folding the blanket neatly before setting it down on the bed. Heading for the kitchen, she distinctly remembered seeing the living room and hallway leading to the bedroom when she had arrived, so the kitchen had to be on the other side of the living room.
She peered into Andy's kitchen and watched as he appeared to be stirring something. Then he moved to a steaming pot and removed its lid to drop spaghetti in it. Sharon remained there watching him surprised at the sight of Andy doing something so intimate, so domestic. Of course, he had been divorced for quite a while, and had therefore been living by himself. Sharon was surprised at the feeling of domesticity that reared up within her. Stepping into the kitchen, she decided to observe Andy from up-close, "Smells good," she said, her voice softer than expected.
Andy started, but with a surprised grin, "Hey, Sleeping Beauty, hungry?"
Sharon smiled at him, tilting her chin down and looking at him from over the brim of her glasses "Rather," she replied, nodding slightly.
"Very well," Andy chuckled, "It'll be ready in three then." Sharon looked at the table Andy had set with a blue cloth, two forks, white dishes and two wine glasses. Two blue candles and a match box were in the middle of the table with water and cranberry juice. "How are you feeling?" Andy asked.
Sharon turned to him confused at first, comprehension dawning slowly as she realized that he was referring to her back, "Better, much better. You?"
Andy smiled, "Me too," he nodded, "but I meant," he cleared his throat "you."
Puzzled, Sharon walked over to Andy and leaned her lower back against the counter, arms crossed over her chest. Andy hesitated. The real reason behind his sudden need to cook had been to distract himself from the sound of Sharon saying her ex-husband's name echoing in his mind. He had felt idiotic in thinking that in her sleep she might have dropped her defences - that through her unconsciousness she might have told him she loved him. He was now eager to ask her about Jack and how things were between them, uneasily aware that he wasn't asking as a friend, but in the hopes that she would say that she no longer loved him. He was also aware, maybe more so than Sharon, of her feelings for Jack.
Andy returned his mind to the present, his absentminded gaze meeting Sharon's expectant and inquisitive one. She had repeatedly asked for only one thing – that he be honest and open with her, "Sharon," he began hesitantly, "you spoke in your sleep," he continued, hoping that she wouldn't want to know how he knew. Clearing his throat, he finished hurriedly, "you said Jack's name." Sharon's so far stony gaze widened in shock before recovering to their formerly scary state. Realizing that she had softened some, however, he continued, "You told him…that you love him." Sharon's gaze was tense now, and Andy couldn't help but look away for a moment before returning his eyes to hers. She sighed softly, licked her lips quickly and drew a deep breath. "Are you alright?" he asked with concern. "I was wondering if there is anything you -" Andy cut himself off before he could finish his sentence; is there anything you would like to tell me? He realized that this would probably sound like a warning or interrogation – like a father allowing his daughter to be honest about her misdeeds before punishment. "Sharon," his voice was rough with emotion and hesitant, "what's going on with Jack? He was with you for three days and then suddenly left."
Sharon looked taken aback by his daring question at first, but exhaustion took over her gaze once more, and she shook her head to signify that she really didn't want to talk about it, "That's Jack. Throughout our marriage, it's what he has always done." She stared at the floor as she said it, releasing everything in one breath. Andy's face fell, his eyes widening at Sharon's unexpected admission – at the fact that she was opening up to him about something so intimate that didn't involve Rusty. Most surprising to Andy, however, was this new version of Sharon – was she defeated and unable to bear the darkness of the barren truth? Andy recomposed his face and took a step towards her. They were close now, their bodies almost touching.
He cupped her cheek and made her look at him. In a low voice that was laden with care, he reassured her, "You can always talk to me, Sharon. Let me be there for you the way you are for me." His eyes met hers intently, and she could feel his care for her. There was no more sorrow in his eyes, only care and love for her and an eagerness to ease her burden.
"He left a letter," Sharon continued her voice trembling "but I tore it into pieces before -"her voice broke and Andy could only look into her eyes with his heart aching at the sight of her – at the sight of Sharon pretending that she was used to her husband's unforgivable behavior. She maybe regretted not reading it? No, but she was clearly hurt, "before I opened it. I've read so many over the years, always the same repeated refrain." Sharon concluded lifting her eyes from his chest into his eyes, her smiling lips contrasting with her tear-filled eyes. She let out her breath in a sigh. Andy held her gaze, frowning at the sorrow and pain he could feel for her. Almost thirty years of that life. And yet she loved him. He sensed her sorrow and tears were due to the complexity of such a feeling too. She loved her husband, and a part of her had been waiting for thirty damn years to get him (back?). Even though he was divorced, he couldn't put himself in her position because he had never been there. It was by no means a sudden revelation that he hadn't been the best husband. How could such a bright, sensitive, sensible and intelligent woman not understand what kind of man her husband was before marrying him? Was it possible that he had changed so completely after their engagement from the perfect fiancé to a nightmare of a husband? Despite all of his questions, Andy didn't feel right asking her – after all, why should he? To satisfy his own curiosity? He reasoned that she had probably been asking herself the same questions for the last thirty years anyway. Andy raised his other hand to cup Sharon's nape and pulled her into him consolingly. She melted into his embrace, and Andy moved his hand from her cheek to her back, cradling her body into his.
"Sharon," he sighed, his voice breaking. Ever since he had been told that he suffered from high blood pressure, Andy had felt the weight of his years bearing down on him. However, it also meant that in spite of himself, he was also keener to show his emotions – tenderness and fiery temper alike. Or maybe, he thought, it was just her. It was then that Andy realized what Sharon had done - for the first time in almost thirty years she had broken the vicious cycle, she had destroyed his letter without even reading it. Was she finally letting go of Jack? Andy felt hope cross his mind again and his lips curved subtly.
He pulled back a little to look into Sharon's eyes and she whispered tiredly, "Hold me, Andy, please, hold me tight," her voice trembling against his pectoral. Could Sharon feel his heart thumping at her words?. His arms returned to wrap around her, holding tightly and securely, as if afraid to break her, like a child holding a butterfly cupping his hand around her, her silky wings fluttering and grazing his palms. Her eyelashes grazed his jaw now and Andy closed his eyes, his tender and strong need to protect her negated by the stronger urge he felt to find her lips, which were but a mere two inches away from his own, with his. All he had to do was tilt his chin down and turn his head a tiny bit on his left. Sharon's hands rested on his chest, just above his heart. She fanned her hands across his chest, as though attempting to capture his heartbeats. Andy took a deep, slow breath and tilted his chin down, his body stiff and his mind severed. Her eyelashes brushed his cheekbone now, and she didn't move. Was she waiting for him to kiss her? He turned his head that tiny bit, swallowing as his gaze lingered on her luscious lips before lifting his eyes towards hers. Sharon's eyes were tense now, and Andy swallowed hard before letting go of her body, cupping her face and pressing his lips gently to her forehead, imagining that he were doing it on her lips instead. His eyes blinked, and a tremor shook him slightly. He would not kiss her, not yet. He would not take advantage of her weakness and vulnerability only to have her regret it later. That wasn't the way he wanted their relationship to progress. He yearned to kiss her, but more than that, he longed for her love. Although that seemed to be too far out of reach right now, he would never do anything to break her. He was the only man she actually had in her life. They were friends and not lovers. He was in love with her and she still loved her husband. He could and would respect that. He had no choice. Kissing her would be like betraying her trust, breaking her trust in him – even if right now, she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her, she would only regret it later. Sharon's eyes were wide, looking at him with a mixture of surprise and gratefulness. She smiled at him, her eyes narrowing so as to read him better. Andy smiled back, congratulating himself for the right choice, whilst a feeling of hopeless romanticism crossed his mind once more. Somehow, he had ingratiated himself with Sharon.
Sharon entered her apartment, thinking back of the evening spent at Andy's with mixed emotions. She felt odd, but couldn't put her finger on the reason. She slipped off her shoes and went into her bedroom barefoot. Taking off her glasses, she unzipped her skirt and stepped out of it, leaving it on the floor. She unbuttoned her cuffs and she realized that she didn't have her blazer, having forgotten it at Andy's. She sighed as she took off her shirt. Dropping her clothes on her bed, she went into the bathroom, reached for her toothbrush and squeezed some toothpaste out onto it. As she finished rinsing her mouth, she glimpsed her reflection in the mirror. Really looking at herself in the mirror, she scrutinized everything about herself - her eyes, face and lips, her neck, arms, breasts and belly. For whatever reason, she was the one that Andy loved, and though she had felt it today, she admired his self-control around her. She could trust him. While that knowledge should comfort her, she couldn't pin down why she still felt uneasy. She thought back to what Andy had said earlier that day, you spoke in your sleep, pensively considering the fact that he had obviously been there, watching her sleep. He had heard her telling Jack she loved him. She tilted her chin down, unable to bear the sight of herself anymore. She was married to Jack and she didn't take their relationship for granted. Thirty years had passed, and tomorrow would be their thirtieth anniversary and she felt sick and tired. She looked at herself in the mirror again, feeling like a weak prisoner in her marriage, despite all odds. In thirty years of marriage, he had taken her for granted every time he left and returned to her. Through it all, she had stayed. Not to wait for him, but because she knew that sooner or later, he would return. Now she was getting older and she was tired – she was sick of his tricks and games, which was why she had torn his letter to pieces. She was framed in her marriage like her image in the mirror. It was the first time that she had felt this way. Her marriage to Jack had always protected her for other men's advances, and she was shocked at her latest revelation. Sometimes, the old adage that "it is better late than never" couldn't be more wrong. Upset at the thought that, for the first time in thirty years, she regretted her marriage to Jack, she felt no relief or freedom at the thought that they could separate – just confusion and guilt. Hearing Andy repeat what she had said had finally sealed it for her – she might still love Jack, but there was no way he would ever come back into her house or life. It was over, and tearing that letter to pieces had helped her shut the door on him and their marriage. She realized that now. Nevertheless, she loved him- not because he had given her the greatest gifts of her life (her children) – but because he was Jackson Raydor, and she couldn't help herself. They shared funny and sweet memories too. That didn't mean she wanted him again. Suddenly she remembered of her dream and why she had said what she did. Jack had had Andy's voice and he had whispered to her, "I love you Sharon." In her dream he was holding her, crying, and she had told him she loved him too, Jack with Andy's voice. She was puzzled shocked. She tried not to dwell on the dream, focusing instead on trying to rid herself of the feelings welling up inside of her. She unhooked her bra and took off her panties, entered the shower and directed the water jet right onto her face and hair, eyes blinking, brows furrowing, and a sob shaking her shoulders and chest.
Sharon was tossing and turning in her bed, chasing sleep and desperately attempting to stop thinking about Jack and Andy. She was afraid, however, of what sleep and dreams would bring. Then she told herself she could do nothing about, resolving herself to sleep once more. The last time she had felt this way was during Jack's last visit, at 3AM, after she had returned to her bedroom, her bid of a goodnight still on her lips. Turningherbacktohimshecould sleep no more. She thought of the last time he had returned before Rusty's arrival. He had prepared dinner for her, and as she was preparing Ricky's bed for him, he had entered Ricky's bedroom and had watched her with nostalgic and sad eyes. Then, coming up behind her, he had grabbed her hips gently and laid his chin on her shoulder, effectively trapping her in his embrace. She jolted against him, but did not fight him.
"You are so beautiful," he had said, breathing her in, "I miss you." Then he spun her in his arms, forcing her to face him.
"Jack," she had struggled weakly, but pitied him when she saw the look of desperation in his eyes, brought on by his awareness of his own inadequacy in their relationship.
He had hushed her quietly, grazing her lips with his. Removing her glasses from her face without letting her go, lips still pressed against hers, he set them down on the arm rest. "You don't want me in your bed," he had stated simply. She shook her head, closing her eyes and swallowing. "I want you in this bed," he had whispered against her lips, and Sharon shook her head more weakly now, turning her eyes away from him. He had started unbuttoning her semi-transparent nude shirt and kissing her neck when she stammered, "Jack...please." Her shirt was now open, and his lips burned a trail of kisses into her cleavage. She had mentioned her estranged husband just a couple of hours before to Lieutenant Gabriel, and now he was there his hands and lips all over her body. Jack's hands lifted the hem of her skirt, his fingertips grazing the soft skin of her inner thighs. She wanted him and loved him, despite the knowledge that he would never change. But she also couldn't change the fact that she was still his wife, and that she had made a vow to be there for him in some manner, and to never leave him. She was also acutely aware of the fact that she was allowing him to hurt her again, because it wasn't just sex, and she knew that. She had two children with him, and she would have liked to have been able to trust him for them, at least. She had failed, and was as guilty as he was – perhaps even more so because she had wanted her second child despite all that had happened the first time she had been pregnant . And when he had told her he had returned to stay because he loved her and their child and he could not live without them, they had made love so passionately and so tenderly because that was the night he begged her to conceive another baby, and she had trusted him. He had stayed, and four weeks later she told him she was pregnant again. Four weeks and a day later, he was gone, leaving Sharon's apartment dark and silent, a letter labelled Sharon (not to mention the baby in her womb) the only indication of his presence there previously. Saddened, Sharon had laid her hand across her still-flat belly rubbing gently to comfort her baby.
By the time Sharon's mind had returned to the situation at hand, Jack had already lifted her skirt up to her hips.
"Stop it Jack!" she ordered steadily. He hadn't expected her voice to be so strong, especially considering how heavily she'd been breathing not a moment before. She had pulled aside and away from him, stretched her skirt down wrapped her shirt around her chest, striding away from him and into her bedroom. She had not slept with him since the night of Andy's stabbing, when he had called her in the middle of the night asking for her help. She had been incredibly worried about Andy, and had been grateful that he had had the presence of mind to come to her for help. Once at the hospital, she had been so relieved to see him alive, even if he was in bed, and had allowed him to purposely misinform her so that Brenda's team could continue the investigation. She had even been glad that he had accused her of persecuting him – the victim! – because it meant that he was rapidly recovering. She had allowed him to stay at the station to interrogate his aggressor after the identification – reminding him of his promise to go home and rest. Suddenly, she became aware of how often Andy had occupied her thoughts lately and was surprised. Somehow the night Andy had called her, pulling her away from Jack, had really been her lucky day. She smiled, feeling that sleep was finally nearby.
Andy got in her car, "Good morning, Captain," he saluted, winking.
"Good morning, Lieutenant," she smiled, turning to him, her hair falling in gentle waves and hanging above her cleavage. Andy took a long look at her. Wow she was wearing the blue one. He loved that dress, short enough (or not long enough) and he grinned inside as he observed her rather generous neckline that revealed just enough when she leaned over her desk. He had to turn his eyes away when he noticed the rest of the team unconsciously lingering there blinking. He couldn't tell whether it was the color that suited her or her who suited the color. He couldn't be objective, but it was the undeniable truth that she was gorgeous, sexy and classy no matter what she wore. He noticed her eyes were slightly puffy and her make up a little thicker so as to camouflage it, but her gaze was still radiant, "Hey, you look...fine," he said, grinning. His palms were up and his head nodding.
"Well, you too," she replied, her voice sultry and teasing.
His lips curved, eyes closing partially but still looking at her – glancing at her legs – as he nodded his head, "You rock, Captain." She giggled in response.
At their arrival together, her giggling and clenching his arm as if needing to steady herself as laughs shook her body, the team looked up at her in bewilderment. Provenza's eyes widened, his mouth falling open, and his voice shouting "Good morning, Captain!" in the desperate attempt to distract the team from the sight of Sharon giggling like a young girl and Andy with his chest swelling with pride whilst looking at her found himself now to be the object of the team's bewildered stares, due to the cheerfulness of his voice and swiftness of his movement while standing. The aim was achieved, and he turned to them, his body language screaming, so what?! This caused everybody to return to what they were doing before the Captain's arrival with Flynn. Sharon couldn't hide her surprise at such a warm welcome, especially from Provenza, and she stopped giggling as if struck. She turned to look at him, she gazed with her mouth open and eyes wide, her shock mirrored by Andy's bewildered frown and shaking head.
"Mrs. Raydor?" a tall young boy wearing glasses entered the murder room with a clipboard, "Uh, yep, Mrs. Sharon Raydor?" the boy repeated, lifting his eyes from the board.
"That's me."
"You've got a package. Sign here, please." The boy handed her the board, a finger on the where she had to sign. Taking the board back he handed her a large rectangular yellow-brown envelope and said, "For you." "Oh…thanks." Sharon's brows arched as the boy mock-saluted and left. Once more, Sharon was the object of everybody's attention.. Sharon turned the envelope, almost a package actually and recognized Jack's writing at once. She doubted it had to do with their thirtieth wedding anniversary, but why was Jack sending her mail? Generally he called or left letters for her. Sharon swallowed, eager to get it open but apprehensive of her team's stares, "Excuse me," she said, curving her lips and letting her eagerness show. She turned, reached her office and shut the door behind her, reaching for the blinds and whipping them shut. Then she turned away from the blinds, her eyes fixated on the envelope in her hands.
After thirty-nine minutes and forty-seven seconds there had been no sign of her yet and the team had begun to exchange worried glances, their lips pursed and their brows high. Andy suddenly jolted up like the cork of a champagne bottle, and dashed to her door. He knocked with his forefinger middle knuckle.
"Yes?" Andy tilted his chin down, releasing a little breath at the sound of her raspy voice attempting to regain control and opened the door quickly, entering rapidly and shutting the door immediately behind him as though he wished to preserve the intimate space she had created. Sharon had her back turned to him and was leaning back in her chair, looking outside her window but not really looking at the city. He noticed that her glasses were on her desk, laid across an open folder. Glancing at it, Andy started – he recognized that colour, having seen it one too many times. The light blue frame of the official stationery was a dead giveaway. Was it possible that Sharon-? He swallowed hard, his mind and heart telling him that despite everything she had been through with Jack, this was going to be very hard for her. Jack had filed for divorce. He cleared his throat, "Sharon?" She didn't move or make a sound, silence filling the space between them. Andy tried again, feeling like an intruder, "Sharon, if you need a friend, know I'm there for you." He saw her nodding silently, and his heart sank as he turned and reached for the doorknob.
"Andy," she murmured her voice soft but steady. He turned to her and she looked at him, swallowing as she knew that he already knew having glanced at the folder again. She briefly pressed her lips together, breathing in through her nose. He noticed her lower lip and cheeks trembling now, her usually expressive eyes blank, "hold me." Her voice trembled as she pleaded with him. He jumped forward, grabbed the back of her arms and lifted her tiny trembling body, stopping only to pierce her eyes with an intense look so as to communicate the strength of his love for her. He pulled her into his body, wrapping his arms and whole body around her frame, her body desperately needing to be held together as she broke down.